


A Light At...

by misbegotten



Category: VR.5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Down the rabbit hole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Light At...

**Author's Note:**

> [jedi_penguin](http://jedi_penguin.livejournal.com/) requested Oliver Sampson and the lines, "I'm not going to tell you that I will protect you or die trying. You will be protected, no matter what." Voila.

_She's wearing blue. She's wearing green. Her hair is dark. Her hair is gone._

The maze of high garden hedges gave way to a tunnel. Sydney looked back, hesitant to leave the bright sun and gentle breeze. Her mother, pouring tea at the other end of the field, beckoned to her. Six-year-old Samantha distributed cookies to a stuffed rabbit and a real crocodile. Sydney could stay. She could join them.

The rabbit was eating the crocodile.

_She's a soldier. She's a princess. She's a train conductor. She's dead._

Feeling rather like Alice, Sydney turned away from the garden and went down the rabbit hole. It smelled dank. The walls felt moist, and as she brushed her fingers across them she imagined dark moss spreading across her hands, up her arms.

There was little illumination, just an eerie glow at the end of the tunnel. "Very funny," she murmured. "Are all my answers there?"

She stumbled, landed hard with her hands in a puddle. The water absorbed some of the shock, but her hands still stung from new scrapes. She searched tentatively in the dark, trying to find what she had tripped over and hoping that it didn't bite.

She found a pair of spectacles. Old style, wire rimmed. When she put them on, the tunnel was bathed in a startling, green glow. The walls pulsed around her. She looked over the rims of the glasses. Dark again. Behind the glass -- emerald light.

"Hm." She looked behind her, and found what had blocked her path.

_Duncan is dead. Alexis is dead. Simon is dead. Oliver is dead. Daddy is dead._

She moaned, and fell to the ground. Crawling over, she cradled the corpse in her arms. "Daddy, I'm here. Daddy, it's okay. Please come back. Daddy. I'm so sorry. Daddy."

A rush of water began building where she had entered the tunnel. It was a wall of white, a rippling red, midnight blue. It hovered until it was sure it had her attention, and then exploded towards her.

_Water in the car. Water pulling the body out of her arms. Water washing her family away._

She scrambled up, sloshing through the pool rising around her. The tidal wall tumbled towards her, and she ran desperately.

She burst into light. Seering, stabbing light so brilliant that she threw up her arms to shield herself from it.

Behind her, the tunnel had disappeared.

Before her, a hand. A voice. "You have to take off the glasses," Oliver said gently. He pulled her arms down from her face, and then put his hand on her cheek. "Sydney, you have to take them off."

She shook her head stubbornly, eyes screwed shut. "Can't."

_She was three. She was nine. She was eighteen. She was ninety._

Even with her eyes closed, she could see him. His dark suit was a shadow across the light, burning its shape into her eyelids. She closed her eyes more tightly, but he only became clearer.

Oliver took one of her hands, palm up, and traced his thumb across the cuts. As he passed over them, they closed seamlessly. She could feel the skin puckering, blending, folding the wounds away. He raised the hand to his lips and put a kiss in her palm. It felt solid, and she gripped it tightly.

She opened her eyes slightly. His hand was in hers.

"You have to take them off," he reminded her.

Sydney nodded reluctantly. With her free hand, she slid the glasses away from her face.

_She was in heaven. It was blue, and dark, and Morgan was whispering something to her._

The world solidified with a force that left her breathless. Gasping, Sydney tried to reorient herself. Her fingers were digging into the desk. The goggles on her eyes… oh God, the goggles. She ripped off the VR goggles, and they fell to the floor dully.

"Syd?" Duncan's husky voice was like coming home.

This is real, she thought fiercely. This is real. This is real.

"Syd?" His hands were on her shoulders, turning her to face him. Duncan, looking as if he was afraid she might melt away before his eyes.

"It's me," she managed. "I'm out. I'm out of VR." Her throat felt scratchy and hoarse, as if she had not used her voice for weeks.

Duncan smiled. "Yeah." He started to pull her from the chair. "Listen, we gotta go. The Committee's on its way."

"They're here."

Sydney spun around, startled -- rocked, melting, quivering -- by Oliver's voice. He was standing at the window, but before she could form a reply he dropped the curtain back into place and drew a gun from beneath his jacket. "Come on," he ordered.

Duncan helped Sydney upright, but she had to stop and lean on the chair to keep from falling. "Come on where?" she demanded. "Where are we going?" Her legs wouldn't move. Her arms were scarecrowed, all odd angles and flailing uselessly. "How long was I in there?"

"We have to go," Oliver repeated, but she caught Duncan's eye.

"Duncan. How long?" she demanded harshly.

"Two years," he admitted.

The world started to sway. Everything was tipping, and then the world turned sideways and she was in the air. She was in Oliver's arms.

He'd handed the gun to Duncan. Duncan, with his artist's hands, who held the piece like a familiar friend.

"Let's go," Oliver said sharply. Duncan nodded, and she was helpless, watching him lead the way as Oliver carried her. She looked over Oliver's shoulder, taking in the room in which she had awakened, and her breath caught.

Two figures at computers. Mother and daughter, sitting side by side with VR goggles on their heads.

"Wait." Sydney twisted, trying to get out of his grasp. "Mom and Sam. We can't leave them there." She was unable to free herself, and pounded a fist weakly on his shoulder. "Oliver, we can't leave them."

He met her gaze, and _God_ the desolation she saw in his expression. He had new scars, she realized. He had aged. "We have to leave them. They're Committee."

"No." It came out as barely a whisper. She tried to find her voice, but it was lost and she shook her head. No, no, no, no.

"I had to force them, Sydney." Oliver's lips were close to her ear. "I had to force them to go in and try to find you."

Her mother was beckoning her. The rabbit had blood on its mouth.

His hold on her was firm, his breath warm against her cheek. "I'm not going to tell you that I will protect you or die trying. You _will_ be protected, no matter what."

She let her head fall back, cradled on his shoulder. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, and she blinked them away. There was no time now. Duncan was leading them down a corridor. A dark corridor with a light at the end.

Perhaps the answers were there.


End file.
